Lyrics Depot is your source of lyrics to Mercenaries by Harry Chapin. Please check back for more Harry Chapin lyrics.

Mercenaries Lyrics

Artist: Harry Chapin
Album: Dance Band on the Titanic

It's a slow motion nightIn the hot city lightsPast time when the good folksAre snoring in bedOn a loose-jointed cruiseTo recolor your bluesWith illegal notions alive,Alive in your head

You are back from some warThat you've been fighting forSome old blue blood bastardIn a dark pinstripe suitand the word from your loinsHas your mind in your groinAnd your back pocket burning with bloodBlood money loot

So, you walk past the glowOf the flicker-picture showsWhere the raincoat men waitFor a child to come byAnd the women in doorwaysWho have nothing to say'Cause your money is talkingTo the ones that you would try

She owns the blockWith the dead pawnshop clockShe's the answer to dreamsThat you pay to come trueShe's got no heart of goldBut that's not what she's soldShe just sees herself doing what sheWhat she has to do

And she's all that you're hopingAs her coat falls openGive her bread she leads youTo a bed on the floorWhere for ten million yearsAnd through ten billion tearsThe armies of bootmen have marchedBack from their wars

She's in that state of graceBefore time finds her faceWith a mind of old wisdomsAnd a body still youngAnd she tastes as sweetAs a child's chocolate treatBefore the butts and the whiskeyHad wasted the taste of your tongue

Play the music againOf the grey-stubble menThat groaning blue symphonyMoans evermoreAnd you watch as she fakes itAnd of course you just take itShe's better than othersYou never paid money for

You've used up your bootyThe girl's done her dutyThe turnstile has turnedAnd you learn you are doneYou're back on the streetJoining fresh marching feetYou see more soldiers comingAnd your girl chooses one

And the medic has broughtShots for what you have caughtYour leave is all overYou're back on the lineAnd the joke in the trenchesOf the hot blooded wenchesAnd the next thing that you'll doWhen they next give you the tim.

And you're back in your armyBack shedding red bloodAnd you dream of the girlAs you sleep in the mudAnd you know you'd swap with herIf the deal could be made'Cause you'd rather be working at loveLove as your trade